


the spaces between glances

by jessamoo



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 19:53:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessamoo/pseuds/jessamoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis is assigned to protect the queen</p>
            </blockquote>





	the spaces between glances

"You have seen such horrors - such as I would never know, will never know."  
"And I would never wish you to know them, your majesty."

Anne had had years of queenly duties, of passive reactions, of stifling rules. She had prepared herself for this title her whole life. She had never known, when she had played at being queen as a child, just what it would mean. Mean for her soul, for her happiness. It had drained her, slowly. It would continue too.

She was no longer the bright eyed child she had once been. Her husband was no gallant hero. Of course, being king came with its own restrictions and she knew Louis felt these too. But she had hoped for more. There was something lacking that she couldn't define. She cared for Louis, but he was not his own man. She had tried to encourage him, but the Cardinal had him firmly under his thumb. Louis looked at her with a gentle civility, and it left her cold.

She was childless still. Louis did not seem at all occupied by thoughts of childhood as she was. She sometimes dreamt of a small child, bright locks like hers, a white muslin dress, running through fields and sunshine grasping her hand, free, young and free and hers. All hers, someone that loved her with that incandescent kind of love that felt like the light of heaven. She wondered if loneliness made her yearn like she did. Anne had waiting ladies and friends around the castle, but she had never learnt to truly trust anyone at court. She must be a queen first and a woman second. She guarded herself because she had too, but not because she wanted too. She had tried to love Louis, the only person in her day to day life who's love she could truly accept and reciprocate in its fullness. But no spark had ever caught.

But when she had met that musketeer. Dark and beautiful, courageous. Then, then there had been a spark. Such a spark that it scared her to think about it. The way he had looked at her had been a revelation. No agenda, no fear. Unlike most people she encountered, he had looked her in the eye sincerely and kindly and she had stared back, transfixed. In his eyes she saw the true strength of a king, the heart of a gentlemen. But he was no king and would never be.

Majesty was not made up of jewels and prestige she realised, but in honour. She had taken a risk, giving him the necklace. But she had too. His look had burnt through her and captured her, his hand on her waist as he hunched over her, protected her, it was a touch that imprinted on her.

When they had been told of yet another assassin reaching the shores of France, Anne had jutted her chin and sat immobile. She did not claw at her face nor faint. She was a queen. People would always be after her and her husband. She thought about the cross that hung around the neck of Aramis, wondered if somehow, it connected them, as if she were that chain that held it there. Maybe, having that pendant so near his heart would somehow help them share some strength.

She had asked for him to be assigned to protect her. She hadn't planned on it. But when her husband sat discussing who would protect them as if it didn't matter, she had jumped and cried out for the one person she knew would protect her with his life. Louis had looked at her strangely for a second. She had held her breath tightly, wondering if he knew. Wondering if he knew her better than she assumed, if he understood that she wanted to be near Aramis in a way she had never wanted to be near anyone before. But he did not. He shrugged and let her have who she chose. In a world where she felt she had so little choice, this was a victory she savoured.

His presence enveloped her, as if he claimed the whole room when he entered. As if suddenly he was the anchor which held everything. He had looked at her with the same intensity he always did, a small smile on his lips that she returned with a quick, nervous breath.

The fact that she was a queen meant that the smallest glances had to contain a thousand questions and promises. A hundred changing burning suns exploded when he grazed her fingers lightly with his own when escorting her into a carriage. She would see him turn to watch her leave sometimes, and knew she was not mistaken in asking for his presence. It felt dangerous, felt as if the blood that rushed to her cheeks would be blood on her hands if she got too reckless. It felt like the flex of his jaw concealed an ocean of words and actions that would never happen. They would have to be content with their lot.

When a musketeer had been posted outside her chambers, she had assumed it would be one of the others. Not him, he seemed to be there so often that the others never got the chance to actually do their job and watch over her. She slept in her own room, as fine as the kings a little further down the corridor. The king often suffered from bouts of tiredness, or a headache or stress at his job. They had taken to occasionally sleeping apart. This did not encourage Anne when thinking about having children, but she had to admit to herself that she did enjoy being alone with her thoughts sometimes.

She had sent her ladies away and brushed out her own hair. She doesn't know what possesses her to carefully set down her brush and glance to the door. If it was not him, she would just use the pretence of checking that her bodyguard still stood guard. If it was him...she didn't know. she didn't even think that far as she tiptoed over to the door. Pressing her cheek against it briefly, Anne heard her heart beating loudly and considered turning away and sleeping alone as she had done so many times.  
But this would never happen to her again. Brave, she thought, you were always brave. You and he are alike in that way. You are brave.

And with that bravery pulsing in her fingertips, she pushed the door open slightly and peered outside.

 

Aramis jumped up at the sight of her, worry clouding his face. Frowning did not suit him. "Is everything alright your majesty?" He enquired earnestly, stepping toward her slightly.  
"I..." Anne trails off, daring to look him in the eye despite her sudden embarrassment. As she stood up a little straighter she was suddenly painfully aware she was in her nightclothes. She didn't dare say anything else - she didn't know what she should do. As she looked up at him, he seemed to understand. Wordlessly, his face softened. He visibly relaxed, inching closer. There was something nervous in his manner too. She remembered pressing her fingers to his wound, how his eyes looked up at her searchingly. Neither one of them could dare to risk their lives, their duty, when they were not sure of the other.

Her fingers itched and she clenched them into a fist. She stepped back a little, the door opening further. A silent invitation. Aramis closed his eyes briefly. Anne continued to stare at him, worried that whatever illusion they were wrapped up in would be shattered if she looked away. 

"I'm not sure this is a good idea." He whispered quietly. Despite his words however, he found himself stepping even closer to her. So close that Anne could feel the warmth of him. 

Slowly, tentatively, she pressed her fingertips to his cheek and he held them there. "Just because it isn't a good idea doesn't mean it isn't right." She says quietly, only realising the truth of her words as she spoke them. "Aramis..."

She felt him exhale heavily and slowly as she breathed his name. And then he pressed into her, moving her back into the room.

He shut the door quietly behind him, facing away from her. His silhouette in the darkness was imperceptibly still. Then he seemed to steel himself, and turn to her. When he looked at her, she felt a knot in her stomach, a bundle of nerves, of excitement, of anticipation. She watched him place down his weapons, sling his cloak over a chair in the corner along with his gloves. She see's the necklace she gave him fall out from where he had tucked it into his shirt. Anne smiles, suddenly filled with more confidence upon seeing it.

She moves towards him and he stand still again as she pressed her hand against his chest, against the little gold pendant.  
"You still wear it. I had hoped so, but I wasn't sure."  
"It never leaves me." He smiles. A relaxed air overtakes them now that they are talking. 

Anne moves to perch on the end of her bed and Aramis continues to stand awkwardly. He seems to big for the room somehow.  
"So has it helped you through any recent battles?"  
"More than you could know." He looks at his shoes and she thinks he seems sad.  
"Sorry. I - I did not think that perhaps you would not want to ponder such...violence." She wraps her arms around her, pulling her long hair over her shoulder.

Aramis shakes his head. he moves toward her and she follows his every movement as her precariously sits next to her. The novelty of being on a bed with someone other than the king was not lost on her, not in the slightest. Their shoulders brush against each other and she thinks it is the most violently intimate thing she has ever experienced.  
"It is not that. Its just...I lost a friend of mine recently. That's all. So you see..." He took the necklace in his hand. "Its not just physical battles it has helped me through. But those of the mind." He looks at her. "Battles of the heart." Anne inhales sharply as he slowly brings the pendant to his lips. 

When he drops it again she lightly reaches up and presses her fingers to his lips. They ghost over his face feeling old scars on his skin.  
"You have seen such horrors - such as I would never know, will never know." She shakes her head slightly. It seemed mightily unfair that he would ever suffer.  
"And I would never wish you to know them, your majesty." Aramis brings his hands up and traces them over her bare arms. "But I know that we all have our own burdens to bare. You are at present being targeted by an assassin, lets not forget."  
Anne smiles at his friendly tone. "I trust you to keep me safe, my Aramis." She tries the words out and they feel right on her tongue. She see's a spark in his eyes when she says them. He smiles, his face right next to hers, his gaze unfaltering.  
"Always." He says. "We are called the kings musketeers...but perhaps I shall just be yours."  
"I think I would like that very much." She whispers as he presses his forehead against hers.

Its deadly quiet, the hush envelops them, the still of the night. He moves, first his nose brushes against her cheek as his hands move further up, trailing over her neck to her face. His thumbs brush back and forth against her cheeks. Aramis looks her in the eye once more, as if searching for permission to cross that final barrier. Whatever he see's in her eyes assures him, and he presses his lips against hers. Lightly at first, and then more firmly when she holds his hands in place with her own, pressing against him. She is so consumed by this kiss as it deepens, she barely notices as his hand gently pushes against her waist and he lays back on the bed with him against her, on top of her.

Anne trails her fingers through his hair as they kiss deeply and slowly. His hands that had been on her waist slowly snake down, brushing over her thighs, bringing her leg up around his torso. She is fantastically aware of his fingers against her thin nightgown. She feels the material ever so slightly shift upwards as he moves. She presses her hips upwards against him and hears the smallest moan.

What had been a tiny moan of pleasure suddenly appeared to turn into the opposite. Aramis grunted loudly, his hand moving from her leg to press himself up and away from her. His weight lifts from her and she instantly misses the steady press of it against her. she watches him stand up crestfallen and confused. She pulls the sleeve of her nightgown back up from where it had fallen as he paces away from her staring at the ground.  
"Aramis!" She breathes in a quiet panic.   
"I'm sorry." He sighs. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have. I-" He holds a hand up to halt her when she jumps up to comfort him. 

He finally looks at her properly again with regret in his eyes. "Your majesty - Anne."   
She stands up straight, composing herself. She wants to say something, but cannot bring herself too.  
"This - this is..."  
"A bad idea." She finishes for him, trying not to sound sullen. "You were right."  
He seems to almost step forward again but thinks better of it. "If you were not the queen, and I were not who I am...I can assure you wholeheartedly, there is nothing I would want more than to...than to stay here with you."  
Anne comes back to herself slowly, nodding vigorously, not quite managing to hide how upset she had suddenly become. "I understand. Your right, of course you are right." They couldn't ever really be together, it was ridiculous of her to have almost risked everything like that. "Oh Aramis. Some men wouldn't be have as gallant as you when invited into the queens chambers."  
"There was a time when I may not have been so gallant either."  
"Yes, well. I suppose if you weren't I wouldn't like you half as much as I do." She smiles at him.

He moves to gather up his things. She watches him quietly. Before he leaves, he turns back to her, his hand resting on the door handle. She moves to stand next to him.  
Without looking away from his eyes, she takes hold of the necklace and tucks it back in his shirt. It would remain hidden, just like this night, just like everything else between them. There under the surface, a truth unspoken in the light of day.  
"Your majesty."  
"Aramis."  
Anne stand on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek before he leaves.

The next day they exchange a few glances. Nothing more. They receive the news that the assassin had been caught - drunkenly bragging about his plans in a pub the night before. Aramis and his men would vacate the castle once more. It had been a brief whirlwind for Anne, to have him here.  
Before he leaves, she and the king gather the musketeers to thank them for their services. Louis looks at them, but she knows he barely even see's them, that this is just a courtesy to him.

But when Anne's eyes seek out those of Aramis, and she smiles and thanks them, she means it more than anything. As she sits with her hands in her husbands, she doesn't feel it. She watches Aramis kiss his necklace again, and she swears for an instant she can feel the kiss as if it had been placed on her lips.


End file.
